


Some of us are Looking at the Stars

by FaithInFreedom



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: It will be a torture and a pleasure, M/M, Nothing is like it seems, There are secrets and complications, There are ups and downs and turns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-10 09:16:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4386281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaithInFreedom/pseuds/FaithInFreedom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically it all starts with Louis causing Harry's sexual awakening. Harry is the new student and Louis has everything one can wish for, but something majorly is missing in his life. Featuring everyone important. There are secrets, complications, turns, up and downs and a big dream of winning England's High School Band Jam this year. Maybe the new curly haired boy can help fulfil this dream…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Where self-esteem, innocence and dreams go die.

**Author's Note:**

> Schools sucks, but we all knew that already, right?

Going to school sucks. When you think otherwise, you must be mad and we can never get along. Seriously, just walking in the hallway is hella depressing. Everything smells like pee, mixed with the sweet scent of never cleaned up sugar drinks. Of course there is more to it… sweat, cheap perfume, cheese sandwiches and something else that is kind of a mystery, but still disgusting. Then there are the subjects; they more or less all suck too. There are some that suck more than others like math and physics and some that are bearable like art and drama, I just don’t like to be judged and observed when I do stuff. Where is the freedom and liberty in school buildings? Non-existent, right. That’s the most annoying thing about school, the fact that everyone seems to be interested in every fucking thing you are doing. It’s like you were some freaking celebrity, seriously. 

You could say that it is partly my fault, being the football captain of the school team in my first senior year. I didn’t ask for it though. I just like to play footie; I didn’t go to the coach and beg for him to put me in this position. Neither did I vote for myself to become one part of “Couple of the Year” at last years prom. Honestly, is there anything more annoying than proms? I mean why? Just why?! My judgment towards this popularity/beauty contests knows no limits. It is also not my fault that I happen to date Eleanor Calder, the head of every single school council group and leading part in last years school drama. This is how we had the misfortune to meet (she calls it destiny, I call it a series of unfortunate events): I was doing the whole shit behind the scenes of the play, electricity and the change of requisites and things like that. It was kinda cool, really. I had heard that Eleanor seemed to have a thing for me, but I never payed a second thought to it. So one afternoon after the rehearsals, she suddenly stood in the room where I manage the lights and stuff and just grabbed me by the collar, pulled me close and began to snog the hell out of me. Later she said she had to do it, because she had the feeling otherwise it was never going to happen. Words of wisdom she spoke there. That was basically it, I was too shocked to push her away and one second later the whole freaking drama club stood in the room and from that moment on it seemed to be pretty obvious to everyone but me, that we were dating. I couldn’t even stop the rumours from claiming, that I was the one who kissed her. Wild and fervent, obviously. As if there wasn’t enough drama in a fucking drama club as it is. Well, that’s why school sucks. 

Eleanor is not the most horrible girlfriend I could imagine, just to get that straight. I mean she is hot, tall with long, wavy brown hair and a bright smile that she is flashing at me every morning when she waits at the bus stop. She makes heads turn and besides being pretty full on and insisting when she wants something, she can be fun. At this point I should probably mention the three reasons why I haven’t got in the prison of hell yet. Their names are Zayn, Niall and Liam and believe me, they are sick. The best mates I could ask for. They make this hell worth living through. Niall is in my football team, I can always count on him to pass the ball to me in the right moment, not only on the pitch. Zayn is the one who persuaded me to join the drama club in the beginning. He is doing all the artsy stuff for the scenery and they were in need for another guy behind the scenes anyway, so I volunteered. After the whole Eleanor thing he still owes me for that. Liam is the one who saves my life everyday and he also happens to be my best mate. I seriously love him to death. I am not the only one to love him though; every teacher has fallen for him and his perfectly combed hair. He lets me copy his homework and whispers the right answers to me whenever I am most in need of them. On a daily basis, that is. Without him, I wouldn’t have gotten as far as to 11th grade. Obviously he isn’t a nerd all the time, but when he needs to be one, he is pretty convincing. It’s a blessing to sit either next to him or Eleanor in every subject, as they both seem to shade my “bad vibes”, as Zayn calls them. 

Before you ask what I am really about, what I want in life and shit, let me tell you that I have absolutely no clue. Maybe I am still waiting for something to tell me what I am passionate about or what I love so deeply, I want to spend all my time doing it. I am not sure if I will ever find such a thing. Maybe it is footie after all, who knows? Put please have mercy and don’t tell Eleanor.


	2. Love Life And It Will Love You Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry meets Louis. Louis meets Harry. That's how the best stories begin…
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z2oiVn79PUY&spfreload=10

Harry’s first day of school began with Gemma teasing him for his choice of clothes. “Oh Harry Cutie, when you are going to school like this you are never going to find a sexy boyfriend” she muttered as if she was really all that concerned about his love life. Gemma was something like the Queen of Sassiness and her style was always so flawless that she claimed, they got their family name only, because someone had predicted the future and had fallen in love with her outfit choices. He tried to protest when she grabbed his arm and pulled him back in his room to all the cartons that were still closed. 

“Why do you think I spend money to buy you clothes when you never wear them?” she asked with her eyebrows nearly touching each other, because of the accusing and angry look which she used to muster him. Of course he knew that all of this was just a show to distract him from the yet again nerve-wracking event of being the new student at the first day of school. Gemma wouldn’t have to go through all of it again, as she was now in university and maybe a little part of her wanted her little brother to rock the start of his new year and find friends and have it easy. Maybe even a big part of her. Of course the right outfit wasn’t going to solve his problems, he wasn’t Cinderella after all, but he wouldn’t ruin this for her.

It would be best to just stop thinking about it, but his pounding heart made it not that easy. He wasn’t made for first school days; he already went through too many in his life. Their mothers work as a documentary filmer, required her to move places every two years and their children had to follow her, their life stuffed into cartons that weren’t really worth unpacking. She had promised that this would be the last time and that Harry could finish his A-levels without interruption before going to uni like Gemma. This though, didn’t relieve him all that much in that very moment. He mustered himself in the mirror and raised an eyebrow at Gemma, who couldn’t hide her mischievous grin. 

“What is so funny?” he asked her and crossed his arms in front of his chest like a pouting five-year-old. Gemmas grin grew wider and she bent her head a little bit closer to him to whisper in his ear: “They are going to adore you baby brother. You look very handsome.” He gulped and looked at himself in the mirror. He seemed to have grown over the summer, his cheeks looked more sharp than soft and his hair was longer and not so curly anymore. Gemma had given him a dark blue cardigan and a simple grey shirt with a v-cut. His jeans were tight and around his head she had slung a bandana that had the same colour as his shirt, printed with white flowers. 

He met Gemma’s eyes and she winked at him. “Go and make this disgusting hallway full of chewing gums your stage. I can’t wait to hear about your first day when you get home.” She gave him an encouraging smile. Harry couldn’t bear it, he gave his older sister, that he sometimes wished to send to the moon and couldn’t really live without, a big hug. “I love you”, he murmured in her pullover. “Of course you do”, she replied and gave him a soft shove. “And you will love many more people in your life. So go out there and find them.”

It was freezing cold outside and Harry was happy to wear gloves when he was riding his bicycle through the unfamiliar streets. He had seen the new school only once before and back then it had been nearly empty. When he came driving in the court, he already felt curious glances following him. Of course, as if he wore a yellow, blinking sign around his neck on which was written: “Please stare at me. I am new and need attention.” 

He was just about to enter the school when a tall guy with tousled black hair and eyes that would have made Bambi jealous came jogging towards him. “Mate! Hey, wait for a second.” Harry stopped walking and waited for the guy that looked more like he belonged in an epic by Homer than to this place. “Hi, sorry for being so rude”, the guy gave him his hand. “I am Zayn.” Harry had the feeling that Gemmas voice was screaming in his head to not do anything stupid now. “Harry, nice to meet you.” Zayn just nodded and pointed to his jute bag. “Your bag is ace. Like, I think jute is the future anyway, but the print! Where did you get it?” 

Harry was a bit confused. He didn’t realize that Gemma had given him this bag in the morning. He had only bought it, because it had been on sale pretty cheap at a local flea market in Bristol, the last place where they had lived. The print showed an hourglass. There was a young girl at the bottom of the glass, hands stretched upwards, the sand falling on her and she smiled as if it was actually pure gold. In the upper part was an old women, she seemed to dig in the sand, as if she wanted to find the hole it was running through. Obviously it showed the life circle and how young people enjoy their life and think they have plenty of time, while older people sometimes want to stop time and rewind what happened. Both women had very strong expressions on their faces and it seemed like neither of them was aware of the other. 

“I got it on a flea market”, Harry replied. Zayns eyes seemed to sparkle. “Ace, I basically spend all my free time on flea markets. You are new right, I never saw you before. If you want I can give you some tips that will ensure your survival in this building, that society created to make us slaves of their mad mindsets and rob us of our youthful spirits.” Harry probably looked at Zayn with an open mouth and round eyes, because he added: “I usually don’t talk that much, I just quoted my mate Louis. Come on.” He followed Zayn and silently thanked Gemma for hanging the jute bag over his shoulder that morning.

His first class was English. Ironically they would read the Ilias in their first term. His teacher had a voice more lulling in than sleeping pills. Harry was determined to use his time to imagine Zayn as Hector in splendid armour. The guy next to him had blonde hair and was chewing on his pencil. Not that Harry was really that eager to listen, he knew the Ilias inside out anyway, but the sound in his ear was kind of annoying. He was not going to sit next to a pencil chewer until the end of this school year and was just about to say something, when the teacher called his name. He couldn’t help but sigh, the torture began again. He stood up, feeling like his 6-year old self in first grade and walked to the front of the classroom. 

Before the teacher could begin with the usual routine of asking for his name, age, origin and favourite colour, he just waved and said: “Hi, my name is Harry. Harry Styles. I am 17, born in Holmes Chapel, a tiny town that nobody of you will know. I like literature, but only outside the classroom and I had to do this kind of introduction about a hundred times before, as my mum is moving every two years because of her job and takes my sister and me with her. Kind of sucks, but yeah, what can you do? Oh and before you ask, my favourite colour is blue and my hair is growing like this naturally. No magic behind it.” Only after he had finished the last word he really allowed himself to scan the crowd. 

The blonde guy had stopped to chew on his pencil, that was something after all. The teacher looked at him furious. “Well, thank you Harold for taking this in your own hands, but…” Normally Harry would be polite and apologetic now, waiting for the teacher to remind him of his place, but he was kind of sick of the whole drama. “It is Harry, not Harold. Does anyone have another question?” A back haired girl in the first row raised her hand. “Yeah?” Harry asked and nodded in her direction, trying to look friendly. “Do you have a girlfriend?”, she asked. Her friends began to giggle. It was really like being in the first grade again. “I haven’t”, he replied and as much as he knew that it was childish, he couldn’t resist but wink in the girls direction. 

The giggles turned to shrieks. The blonde guy raised his hand. Harry nodded to him. “What is your favourite food?”. The whole class began to laugh; it seemed to be a question that you could expect from him. Harry thought about it for a moment. “I would say a peanut butter and jam sandwich. I ate one just this morning.” A blonde girl with a shy smile waved her hand: "Which shampoo are you using? Your hair is so shiny!" Before he could think of an answer to this, the teacher moved his hands in front of his face like he wanted to hush away a fly. 

“Thank you Harold, erm Harry, I think that was quite enough.” Harry raised his eyebrows surprised: “But you haven’t aksed me about my favourite animal yet…” The teacher looked like he was about to explode. Harry flashed his most charming smile at him and walked back to his seat. “That was hilarious mate!”, the guy next to him whispered. “I am Niall, by the way.” Harry thought by himself, that he could skip his introduction now. “Are the lessons here always so lame?”, he asked. “Always.”, Niall replied. “But now that you are here, it is hopefully going to be bearable. In exchange of a peanut butter and jam sandwich tomorrow, I am willing to offer you some of my nachos.” the guy flashed a smile at him. “Sounds fair.” Harry replied. He had the feeling that they would get along really well.

He was in the boy’s bathroom, washing his hands, when his phone began to buzz. He dried his hands and fished it out of his bag. The message was from Gemma. “Hey little bro, how’s it goin?” He smiled and began to type a reply, when the guy that was standing in front of the sink next to him nudged him in the side. “You should be careful. There are no mobile phones allowed on school property.” Harry looked up surprised. Who the fuck was this guy and what kind of drugs was he taking? 

The boy began to laugh when he saw his shocked expression. “Sorry, sorry. I sometimes can’t help it. I am the students representative and I have to remind the younger students of the school rules. And you are obviously not a younger student, but a new student, so yeah”, he flashed a grin at Harry. What? “Right, I am sorry.” The boy shook his head. “Never mind. Can I show you to the canteen? Your name is Harry right? I already heard about you. I am Liam.” In this school news seemed to travel even faster than Harry was used to. He raised his shoulders as if he wanted to signal Liam that he wasn’t going to complain and followed him. 

He had texted Gemma back: “All’s good, I think you poured some Felix Felicis in my orange juice.” On the way to the canteen, Liam informed him about every activity and every club that you could join in the school and what he should and shouldn’t do. Harry didn’t exactly know what to think of him. He seemed nice, but also like he was actually a teacher and would report everything he did wrong to the director of the school. The younger children stepped back when they walked passed them, as if he was really and actual teacher. When they came in the canteen, Harry at once spotted Niall who waved at him from a table by the window. 

He couldn’t hide his grin about the excitement on Niall’s facial expression, it seemed like he was going to start shouting through the hall at some point. “There is Niall!”, Liam said and grabbed Harrys arm. He couldn’t even progress the thought of how funny it was that they obviously knew each other, but then they arrived at the table and Zayn was already sitting there, so Harry decided not to question the way fate is choosing the ways of life. The three of them didn’t seem like they had anything in common, besides having made his acquaintance this day. 

“Hey mate, vas happenin?”, Zayn asked and Harry was again stuck by how pretty he was. He seemed to know it too, judging from the way he sat in his chair, legs stretched out in front of him, a lazy grin on his face. Niall bend forward and ruffled Zayns hair, what he commented with an angry growl. It seemed like he had found three potential best friends, without even having had to try. He was about to pull all of them in a group hug and thank them for making this the least horrible first day of school he ever had. Now it was at him to convince them that he would make a great addition to their trio. 

Zayn had a sketch blog lying in front of him, the paper was already filled with all kinds of doodles. One of them showed an hourglass. He had scribbled boys instead of girls, but besides that it was basically the same design he wore on his bag. He had maybe seen the bag for 15 seconds and only from afar. “So you are an artist, yeah?” he asked eloquently. Zayn was just about to reply, when Niall said, “He is incredible. He just won this competition for young comic art artists and he works in a comic store where they might going to sell his stuff.” Niall seemed to be more excited about it than Zayn, whose nose now nearly touched the paper in front of him. He didn’t seem to be all that happy about being complimented. Niall was just about to add something when Liam pointed to the other side of the hall. “There, Louis is finally coming.” 

The boy who just stepped in the hall, seemed to have an aura around him, that made everyone look up from their lunch and stop talking for a second. He walked in a way that implied that he knew he had all the attention. Harry thought about charisma and that this boy was breathing it, he couldn’t take his eyes off him. He wore a torn jeans and a plain white shirt, but Harry was sure he had never seen anything so sexy before. His hair was a mess, as if he just came home from jogging and he imagined how it would be to touch it, because he was sure it would feel as soft as feathers. Next to him was a girl with long, brown hair that was telling him something, using her hands to illustrate her point. He looked at her and said something that made her laugh. He just seemed to bring more light in the room, as if he was buzzing with so much energy, he turned up the capacity of the light bulbs. 

He imagined telling Gemma about him this evening and how he would describe him. The girl lightly touched the boys arm and he pulled her closer to his side. Only when they arrived at the buffet, everyone around them seemed to continue to focus their attention on their food and their conversations. “Who is this?” he asked. “That’s Louis, captain of the schools football team, boyfriend of Eleanor Jane Calder and best mate of the students representative, who happens to be me”, Liam stated with a look that said that this was all his accomplishment. “This means he is going to come sit here?” Harry asked dumbly. Zayn began to snore. “That is, when Eleanor doesn’t drag him away to her table, but until now he was always able to escape her somehow.” 

Harry tried to breath evenly and not continue staring like a creep. He didn’t have to let everyone know he had a very obvious crush on this guy on his first day of school. In that moment Louis dropped his plate next to him and let out a dramatic sigh. “Is there anything worse than the first day of a new school year?” He grabbed Nialls coke and took a deep sip out of it, before licking his lips. Harry swallowed and tried to focus his eyes on something else than Louis perfect pink lips. Without thinking twice about it he said: “Being the new one on the first day of the new school year, I guess.” Louis turned his head and flashed a grin at him. “And you are?” 

Harry felt his cheeks turning a deeper shade of pink. Louis just about had the bluest eyes he had ever seen. Like the sea on a sunny day he thought. He wanted to answer, but the way that Louis eyes were fixed on him, like he wanted to read his thoughts, his soul, was so intense that he stopped breathing. There was something about this boy, that turned his whole world upside down in only five minutes and he felt with a sudden clearness, that this was only the start. Finally he remembered, that there were other people in the room as well and that they were expecting an answer from him. “I am Harry. Harry Styles. I am 17, born in Holmes Chapel.” he bit his tongue to stop himself from talking. This was not an introduction in front of a class. And he had been told that he was charming. Where was that charm when he needed it? 

“Welcome to the sweet torture of going to Westhill High, Harry Styles, 17, born in Holmes Chapel. You don’t mind when I call you Curly, do you?” Harry just shook his head, not capable of doing anything else. He was absolutely positive he looked like a giant idiot. Louis grinned amused and Harry wished he could vanish in a black hole that would never spit him out again. “I think we should keep him.” Louis announced in the round and Niall nodded enthusiastically. “I am the one who found him by the way. And I decided to keep him first thing in the morning. He basically belongs to me. He is also going to make me peanut butter sandwiches.” Zayn rolled his eyes at that. “I am pretty sure that I am the one who saw him fist. So he is rightfully my property. He will not want to hang out with any of you guys anyway, if he can spend time with me.” He gave Harry a confident wink. 

Liam let out an exasperated sigh, “I am sorry, but Harry doesn’t belong to anyone. He is creeped out by all of you, where are your manners? It is his first day in this school, he maybe should get a good impression.” He shot angry looks at all of them. Louis began to snore and nudged Harry in the side. “Leeyum is right, where are my manners? So what about a little polite small talk so we can get warm Harry?” he mustered his face as if he was searching something, but couldn’t find it. “What are you passionate about, what are your dirty secrets, your hidden desires, your dreams?” Harry felt his heart beating in his chest. He wanted to know about his desires and dreams? 

He was sure from now on he would dream about hearing these questions once more, when they were alone. Although of course, he was absolutely positive that he would never be able to stay in a room with Louis for more than two minutes, without getting a massive boner and embarrassing himself. “I kinda like singing. Always have.” he said finally and Niall flashed a big grin at him. “That’s sick bro. You know that we have a band that…” Liam put a hand over Niall’s mouth and hissed: “Not yet mate, I thought we agreed on not to scare him off?” Harry was too confused to really listen to them. He was also busy looking at Louis who stared bemused in his chicken salad.

That evening their mother had to go to a conference where one of her movies would be presented. Sometimes Harry forgot that it was the first day for their mother, too. She had told Gemma and him not to wait for her. They were allowed to order pizza and decided to eat cuddled up on the sofa. Harry couldn’t stop talking about Louis. He described his look and repeated their whole conversation, up to the point when Louis had said he would call him Curly and got so excited, that he nearly choked on his pizza piece. 

Gemma was laughing the entire time, encouraging Harry to describe the blue of his eyes again, asking if he really was the captain of the football team and if he thought that he had a stunning six-pack. Harry ignored the last question of course. Not that he would not try his best to find out. Gemma insisted they should make plans on how Harry could win him over and what to wear the next day to school. After about two hours of Louis talk (for the fifteen minutes that he had actually spent with him), Gemma decided that they deserved a luxurious evening, opened a box of chocolate crisps, boiled tea and put “The Notebook” in the CD drive. It was their favourite movie and only reserved for special brother-sister occasions. 

Gemma had her hands in Harrys curls and poked his nose from time to time. He had the feeling he would fall asleep halfway through the movie, when Gemma suddenly began to giggle. “Hazza, you know that this might just be the first time that you actually have a crush on someone who is not a fictional character?” Harry hid his head under the blanket and mumbled something non-understandable. Gemmas giggles turned into an exited laugh and Harry climbed on top of her and tried to cover her mouth. 

She rolled away under him and landed on the living room floor. “Hazza has his first real cruuuush!” she shrieked and it really wasn’t Harrys fault that he had to throw a pillow at her. A second later Gemma fired back and that was all it really took to start a serious pillow-fight. They chased each other through the flat. The last time they had acted that way was more than five years ago. It was kind of relieving to him that, no matter how many things in his life seemed to change, Gemma and him would always stay the same. Another pillow flew in his direction and he ducked away under it. Now Gemma was at the other side of the kitchen table and before Harry had thought it through, he was robbing on the floor to get to the other side and grab Gemma’s ankles. 

She was stumbling back in the right moment, squeaking in the same way she always had when she was a little girl. “Booh!” Harry screamed when he got on his feet again and Gemma ran away, holding her stomach, because she could barely even breathe anymore through her bursts of laughter. Suddenly the voice of their mother came echoing through the flat. “What is happening here?!” She peeked around the corner where they were standing in the kitchen. They froze on the spot, Harry clinging to Gemma’s back like he wanted to wrestle her down, her arm around his neck, one hand clinging to his right foot. They couldn’t contain the silence for long though before they started laughing again. But know it was more like little giggles and they sunk to the floor, completely exhausted. 

“You realize that there are other people living in this house and that I could hear you two from the moment I stepped in the hallway, do you? I thought you were grown up enough so that I could leave you alone for a while, but maybe I was wrong.“ She looked at both of them accusingly, her eyebrows raised. “Sorry mum.” they both said in unison and began to laugh again. Their mother sighed and let herself sink to the kitchen floor next to them. Then she suddenly began to laugh as well. “It seems like you two had a good day! I couldn’t wait to finally come back and hear about everything.” A moment later they were all embraced in a giant ball of limbs and happiness.

When he went to bed later, he fell asleep thinking of Louis and his blue eyes. At least he thought so, he couldn’t make a difference between his dreams and reality anymore. But the feeling he had when Louis looked in his eyes like he could read his soul, was stuck in his memory.


	3. Please Hold My Universe Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I read so many Larry fan fictions that I saw it as my duty and my pleasure to finally write one myself. Let me know your thoughts! :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can dream it, you can do it. ;) Most people deserve a second chance…
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WqmbqnjbLco

In the morning Zayn picked him up at the school gate and he realized that even more people were starring at him than the day before. His blossoming friendship with Zayn seemed be a good source for gossip. Waking up he had been really excited to get to school, for the first time in his life maybe. He had gotten this buzzing feeling in his stomach that told him it was going to be a good day. Being friends with Zayn was something like a ticket to the cool life in high school. It meant being invited to the right parties, meeting the right people from the very beginning. And thanks to Gemma’s outfit choices he seemed to fit right in. “Are you staying for a cigarette?” Zayn asked and Harry nodded. As if he would ever say no to him.

Harry noticed four girls coming towards them their arms linked, laughing as if sharing secrets too good to tell anyone else. One girl in the middle with long, blond tip dyed hair flashed a big smile at Zayn. Harry saw surprised how he turned his eyes on the ground as if pretending not to see her. Zayn didn’t seem to be the kind of person that was too shy to look at a girl, but maybe there was more to the story. He decided to keep it in mind and ask him about it another time.

“It’s a bad habit.” Zayn mumbled as he inhaled the smoke of the cigarette. “I just can’t help it, it’s kinda inspiring my thoughts.” Harry looked in his eyes that were so stunningly beautiful and framed by these beautiful eyelashes. He couldn’t help, but think that Zayn was like a mystery that nobody ever solved. And he realized he desperately wanted to read his soul and make him smile. “Why did you begin to draw?” he asked him without commenting on his smoking habits. He was really curious; maybe drawing was for Zayn what singing was to him – a life elixir that he couldn’t live without. “I draw to forget.” Zayn said and looked so serious that wrinkles began to draw lines on his pretty face. “Sometimes I think too much about stuff and when I paint its like bleeding, you know? I bleed out all that I got. I bleed and in the end there is nothing left in my mind and I can relax.”

Harry listened, thinking about each of his words. What was in Zayn’s mind that letting go of felt to him like bleeding? He seemed like the most flawless person he had ever seen, but maybe these perfect people were in fact the most vulnerable and emotionally scared. And nobody ever bothered to look under the pretty layer. “I was once told I am a good listener.” Harry said carefully. “I can always be that person for you, just let me know.” Zayn nodded and Harry had the feeling like his eyes were full of silent gratitude, like he began to believe there was actually a person that cared.

When he sat in class next to Niall, the blonde ball of energy persuaded him to play a game with him that consisted of writing a short poem with some key words. He claimed it was literature class after all and this required some poetry that was not a thousand years old. The words that had to be included in the poem were cheese, dumb, dickhead and starfish. When Harry wanted to object that these words had no relation to another whatsoever, Niall denied that fact and explained it required some simple words to leave space for the artistic mind. Harry promised to write him a song with these words and Niall looked as happy as if he had just been promised a meet and greet with Megan Fox. He might have looked even happier when Harry handed him the peanut butter and jam sandwich, he had talked about yesterday.

After class he headed to the library. He wanted to find the book that he was going to hold a presentation on the week after and get some alone time from all the noise and stares. He rushed down the stairs and nearly feared to meet Liam who seemed like a person that spent all his free time in libraries. When he arrived he was surprised to find the library completely empty. Only the old librarian sat on her desk, smiling at Harry, happily as if she wanted to show her approval of his presence in her little kingdom. He walked through the rows and shelves and down another stair what made him realize for the first time that the school was actually pretty antique and labyrinthesque.

Finally he found the book he was searching for: “The Catcher in the Rye” by JD Salinger. He had chosen the book by himself, simply because it was his favourite book and he knew it inside out. Luckily it had been written some time ago and was labelled a literary classic, so he had the pleasure to talk about a guy his age that was pissed about the fake stupidities of life and didn’t quite fit in. A character he could perfectly relate to. He opened the book and took a deep breath. It smelled like the spirits of many students that had read the book before him and left their marks with thoughts and touches and funny comments on the side of the pages.

Suddenly he heard a voice near his ear. It came from behind, more a whisper than anything else: “He was not doing a thing, besides standing next to the shaky bookshelf, holding the universe together.” He immediately froze and felt his breathing becoming uneven in-between seconds. It wasn’t as if he had forgotten that voice already. Or could imagine to ever do so. More than anything it was embarrassing what affect the mere sound of it had on him. He felt exposed and vulnerable, it was a small relieve that he did so in the best possible way. There was nothing he wanted more than to hear the sound again, re-quoting his favourite book so genuinely. He turned around and looked in Louis eyes that were still like the sea and only a shade darker.

It was so hard not to close the distance between them and gently put his feathery hair out of his face before running his finger down his cheeks to his lips and then, then… he realized that Louis had began to smile again like he had done it the day before. In a mocking way, eyebrows raised as if he wanted to say that he knew exactly what Harry was thinking. He desperately searched for something to say, other than “Please just fucking kiss me, I can’t stand being near you without having your lips on mine for a second longer.” but instead he settled on: “You read the book?” He clumsily held it up and waved it in front of Louis face as if he hoped to make his beauty vanish somehow with the movements of his hand. Louis nodded. “Oh yes, I did. Those goddamn phonies are just about killing me every single time.” Harry couldn’t hold back his laugh that came out like a rather gross snore. At the same time he was too surprised to even worry about looking cool or finding an answer. His crush was not only incredibly sexy and capable of quoting his favourite book; he was also seemingly the funniest person he ever met.

“So what are you doing down here is this dark and lonely library when you should be upstairs with the living ones, making friends and becoming the popular boy you are destined to be?” Louis put his right hand next to Harry’s head on the shelf. As if this was going to help him hold a normal conversation. Though he felt a conversation with Louis was never going to be anything close to normal. “I was just searching for…” then he held up the book again. “That’s it?” Louis asked mischievously. “You didn’t feel like escaping from the crowd of people, trying to find out who the curly newbie is that Zayn Malik put under his protectorate?” It was hilarious how he seemed to read his thoughts. “Maybe, yeah.” Then he paused for a moment. “What about you?” Louis shrugged. “Just hiding from my hyperactive girlfriend, I guess. She wants me to sign up for some charity committee thing.” The girlfriend-thing, right. Harry had totally forgotten about that. Or just suppressed it.

“Maybe you should stay a bit longer Curly.” Louis whispered and leaned his head closer to Harry’s. “You are going to be told great news later.” Then he turned around and left. Not without lightly brushing his fingers down Harrys arm, giving him a sensation that seemed to electrify his whole body. He just stood like petrified, thinking about what had just happened, his breath going heavy. When one thing was sure after this morning, then it was that he couldn’t continue living in this school for at least another school year, having Louis Tomlinson so teasingly close all the time. He was going to make a plan to somehow make the schools golden boy his. And if this was some kind of after effect from reading too many princess fairy tales as a little boy, then be it. He was allowed to chase his dreams. Or rather singular, his dream.

When he had finally managed to get his food and manoeuvre his lunch to the table where they had sat yesterday, all four of them were already seated. It seemed like they had all had quite a serious talk just before he came, as they were neither talking nor looking at each other. “Everything okay?” Harry asked. Silence. It seemed like nobody had the courage to begin talking to him, not even Louis who was busy moving his french fries from one side of his plate to the other. “Okay Harry, listen.” Liam had taken over a facial expression that showed that he was not a normal dude but "Mr. Students Representative" now.

“We are going to compete for England’s High School band jam this year and we want you to be part of our band. Our lead singer actually.” He mustered Harry with a face that allowed no questions and no contrary. “We saw a video of you singing on an event in your last school and you were pretty good. To take part in this competition the band needs five members and at least one singer. We are four now and obviously none of our voices is good enough to rock that shit to the top. It’s not like we all can’t sing, but we need something extraordinary. Like your voice.” Harry tried to process all the information he had just received. “Smooth.” Remarked Zayn half-grinning. “You have to see it as a compliment Harry. We think you are a good singer from what we saw in this youtube video and you are quite handsome, as far as I can judge that.” At this point he winked at Louis who quickly focused on his fries again. “Well and you will have your fair share in the whole thing. Money, screaming girls and four new best mates.”

Harry had listened to Zayn and while he was talking he had gotten this strange, empty feeling of being used in his stomach. He had been so surprised to see all these cool guys trying to be his friends on his first day of school and it had been so nice and so easy and now he realized they had basically tried to buy him all along. Not with money, but with their friendship, what was somehow worse. And then there was Louis and with every glance they exchanged he had gotten the feeling the other boy at least liked him a bit as well. Now he realized that it was all a show to get his voice for their competition. It hurt thinking about how much he had felt connected to all of them, like it was all natural and meant to be. He had been so stupid.

He looked from one to the other and saw that they actually looked kind of nervous now. Everyone seemed to wait anxiously for his reply, as if they knew they did something about this wrong from the beginning. This contest seemed to mean quite a lot to them. He guessed he would find out what it was actually all about sooner or later. He bit his lip and thought about his dream that he had just been given and even though this dream seemed to have moved even farther away from him, he wasn’t just going to let go. Agreeing on the whole thing would mean first and foremost to spend a whole load of time with Louis. And he knew that his mum and Gemma would be totally head over heals for the idea. First of all because they believed in his singing talent and supported him and his talent with all their heart and secondly because they already shipped him and the boy he had gone into raptures about the day before. 

And to be completely honest he wasn’t strong enough to say no and turn down the boys that had already found a way in his heart. As soon as his “Sure, why not? Sounds ace!” came over his lips he found himself embraced in a cuddly group hug. That’s when he felt that he had chosen right. At least it felt like more than just a friendship built on purpose. And one thing he knew for sure: the whole canteen was watching them.


	4. Je Serai Poète Et Toi Poésie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please consider Mr. Tomlinson as the personification of an ill, selfish society.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lm8oxC24QZc

What was this crazy feeling, telling him that his life just changed and would never go back to normal again? This feeling that he made a right choice that took some courage, but made it worth being brave for? Harry had this feeling running through his body from head to toe. He was going to meet Louis after school today. He was going to be the singer of an actual band. He was not going to ruin this for anyone or himself.

They had decided to meet at Louis’ house after school and when he had finally found the address he couldn’t quite believe that this was a place people actually lived in. It could have been a museum or a hotel, but not actually a home. He focused his eyes on the sign of the doorbell. The golden curved letters undeniably read Tomlinson. He gulped and took a deep breath in. Cautiously his finger pressed the golden button down. “Yes please?” the sound of a women’s voice came out of the loudspeaker. 

Suddenly he saw Niall approaching casually from the left side of the alley, flashing a big smile at him. When he arrived and saw that Harry stood speechless in front of the speaker he shoved him away: “It’s Niall Mrs. Adams. I am super hungry, please hurry to let me in that grand kitchen of yours.” A loud and warm laughter was audible then the golden gate vibrated and opened itself to an astonishing garden. All these perfectly matching flowers reminded Harry of a garden magazine. 

Niall didn’t even look around as if the beauty and perfection all around him had no effect on him whatsoever. The women that opened the big entrance gate hugged first Niall and gave Harry a warm look before she shoved them inside. “The others are already here. Now hush!” 

Harry was directed down a hallway, decorated with old oil-painted family pictures that mostly showed old serious man with bizarre beards. On one of the pictures Harry saw a little Louis with hair perfectly combed in a side parting. A man and a woman framed him. The woman looked pale and small. Despite that it was not deniable that she was very beautiful. Her eyes had the same colour as Louis’ though the sparkle was missing. 

The man on Louis left had his hand touching her necklace – a gesture that appeared very possessive and dominating. He had a stern look on his face. You could see Louis leaning away from him and towards his mother. In front of them were four little girls sitting on chairs. All of them had perfectly curled hair that was tied together by a pink ribbon. They looked like little angels, if only there wasn’t this mischievous line around their mouths that made it obvious that they were Louis sisters. It seemed as if the picture wanted to tell him something. 

They found Zayn, Liam and Louis sitting in a light kitchen, each eating a big load of pasta. After trying the first spoonful Harry knew that Mrs. Adams was an astonishing cook. She was also the kind of person he had expected to live behind the walls of a stunning building like this in which rich people were dependent on a person that brought love and happiness and managed the whole household. As far as he had seen none of the men on the pictures in the hallway seemed all that affectionate. 

“Let’s get down to business”, Liam said after each had finished their pasta. “We need to win this band competition so we can get the a contract that will help us to start our career.” “We need to win the competition so we can get the price money.” Zayn interfered. “We need to win for all the female fans and attention we will suddenly have!” Niall added excitedly. “We need to win, so we can finally get out of here.” Louis said, not looking anyone in the eye. 

Harry could see Liam biting nervously on his lip from the corner of his eye. He got the feeling that there were many things that were standing unspoken between them. Liam stood up and walked around the kitchen. “Well we also need someone with charisma and an extraordinary voice to get us there. Someone like you, Harry.” Harry’s eyebrows touched each other frowning. “I am not sure about my charisma, I’m…” but Zayn cut him off. “You have a shit load of charisma and the fact that you don’t have a clue about it is the best evidence for it.” 

Harry didn’t know if he should feel happy or embarrassed about this. “Don’t tell him that too often”, Louis said with a smile. “We want to make sure he stays grounded.” Harry wished his body would stop acting crazy every time Louis smiled at him, but there were shivers running down his spine.

In that moment a little girl peeked her head in the kitchen. She had blonde hair and blue eyes. Harry recognized her immediately from the painting in the hallway. “Go away Fizzy”, Louis growled. The girl walked in and sat down at the table. “Hey idiots”, she grinned and looked around. “Oh you are the guy that will help them to win this competition?” she looked curiously at Harry. “Your curls look so soft, can I touch them?” “No you can’t touch the curls of a strange boy you have never met before!” Louis exclaimed. “He is in our kitchen, to be fair.” Fizzy said and gave Harry a challenging look. In the end Fizzy was allowed to touch Harrys curls. She seemed to be used to usually get what she wanted. No wonder with an upcoming like this. 

They began to talk about the details. Louis and Zayn had written text and melody to close to every song they wanted to perform. Liam had set the schedule for practising and as Harry had expected it was tight. They would practise four times a week now, as the competition was in not even a month. When they had spoken about the equipment, the band logo, their announcement video for the website of the competition and made some minor lyric changes they were still going to do three hours had passed. 

Their name was going to be “One Direction”, a name that showed that they were having a destination they were heading to. This destination might have been a different one for each boy, but they had all agreed on it. Fizzy had decided long ago that sitting with grown up boys was not all that exciting, came back in the kitchen. “It’s dinner time!” she said while looking only at Harry. “Are your friends all eating here? I guess Niall is, are you Nialler?” Niall’s grateful grin said everything. 

Fizzy was already gone and Louis sighed. “Of course you can all eat here, but you know my parents. It’s your decision.” “Oh come on Lou, they are half as bad as you make them seem to be.” Louis let out a dry laugh. “Sure Liam, you don’t know my dad as I know him. He is just skilled in making people like him. Nothing is real about his behaviour.” Harry was sure Zayn knew a lot more about this. As he had learned to know, he was a careful observer. He was sure Zayn had not forgotten to take a close look at the family pictures. 

When they were sitting at the impressive dining table Harry felt slightly uncomfortable. He caught himself wishing he had something more appropriate for the occasion - like a suit and tie, as this was the kind of clothing Louis dad was wearing. His eyes were like needles and Harry had the feeling they were resting on him more than on anyone else on the table. Louis was unusually quiet, as Harry had never seen him before. Niall talked with Louis sisters and Liam with Louis mum. Zayn had occasionally whispered things to him like: “Be careful to take the cutlery from the outside and finish the dessert with the small spoon closest to your plate.” The food was brought in and Harry smiled thinking how Mrs. Adams had made it with a lot of passion and love. 

As soon as everyone had finished the salad Mr. Tomlinson cleared his throat. The room fell silent as if nobody dared to talk when the ‘head of family’ was speaking. “So you are going to support my son’s little boy band, is that so?” he asked and showed a smile that made Harry’s stomach turn. “Well, yeah. I was singing in a band in my old school and I love music more than anything so…”

Mr. Tomlinson raised his eyebrows. “Your old school is it. So why did you change schools then? I don’t have a high opinion on people changing schools too often, it’s not supporting a child’s character.” Harry asked himself what the change of a school had anything to do with how his character was formed, but he didn’t want to start a discussion. “Well my mum is teaching archaeology at university and she got a new job here in London. It was kind of her dream, holding a chair in the capitol so I am very proud of her. And my older sister Gemma just began studying Fashion Design here.” 

Mr. Tomlinson looked more opposed with every word he said. “Fashion Design, now this is a solid subject to study. Is it not widely known that its students are mostly brainless shopaholics, disgusting gays or people not qualified for honest work? It is taking time for nothing and falling on the society’s pocket. Don’t you think so darling?” Mrs. Tomlinson nodded and put her hand lightly on her husband’s arm, who didn’t even notice. “But I am not judging.” He said, focusing on Harry’s shirt that showed a print of Bob Marley. “Most of those folk will find a job anyway. On the street or not is another question.” 

Harry wasn’t sure what he should say to all this bullshit he had just heard. Gemma was one of the smartest people he knew and her outfits were a way for her to express her thoughts and the things she believed in. “You are not being fair daddy. Is fashion not part of a culture and every society’s history?“ Fizzy asked with a voice not at all confident as in the afternoon. “I think you should stay out of things you have no idea about and better go to your room now. I don’t think dessert is doing your figure much good anyway. And I told you before that a ladies figure is her capital, the same as her knowledge.” 

Fizzy stood up and left the room banging the door louder against the doorframe than might have been seen as appropriate by Mr. Tomlinson. “So what about your own plans for the future, Harold?” he looked at him in such a condescending way, it made Harry want to throw up. “I am going to try to become a musician.” He forced himself to look the man in the eye, not flinching.

“Sure you are.” He said said with a smile cold as ice. “Well boys, I want all of you to know that this is a nice thing to do when you are young, but it will never work out in the future. Education comes before something foolish like this and I don’t want school performances to suffer because of these ideas. And bad influence that comes along with it.” While saying this, his eyes lay on Harry and Zayn. Louis sat on his chair looking like a picture of misery. 

When saying goodbye shortly afterwards Louis put a piece of paper in Harry’s hand. Only his sisters had come to say goodbye and Harry was confused by all the impressions he had gotten in the past hours. Impressions of Louis life that seemed to be so much more complicated than he had first assumed. The last thing he saw before leaving was a little picture in the entrance area next to the cloakroom that showed Louis and Eleanor as homecoming King and Queen. 

Outside Zayn kicked the golden gate and Harry saw that he was just as angry about what had happened as he was. “We see each other for practise at Niall’s tomorrow.” Zayn said. “I clearly have no desire to meet this sexist, homophobe, capitalist piece of shit ever again.” Homophobe. Of course Louis dad was homophobe as well. He might have tried to overhear his comment about the “disgusting gays”, but it was hard to do so. 

In this moment he realized that he hadn’t come out to his new friends yet, somehow missed the chance. He said goodbye to Zayn and began walking down the alley, only stopping when arriving in an area of the city where normal people were walking around in normal clothing. He sat down on a bench under a tree and looked for the paper Louis had given to him before. The paper could have been set afire and burnt his way through the fabric of his trouser; so aware he had been of its presence. What was it that Louis couldn’t have said to him in front of the others? Harry’s heart stopped beating. 

It was a quote by William Shakespeare of the play “Twelfth Night”. The letters were hard to decipher, as if written down in only a few moments time: “Journeys end in lovers meeting, Every wise man's son doth know. –Although wisdom is surely not one of my father’s virtues, I am still hoping the end will be true.”


End file.
